Queens Of Nothing
by Eevil Auntie
Summary: A crossover between Neverwhere and Star Wars, featuring Door and Padme Skywalker. Femmeslash. Two women from very different worlds chance to meet, just when they have realized themselves to be alone in the universe.


**Title:** Queens Of Nothing  
**Fandoms:** Neverwhere/Star Wars  
**Pairing:** Door/Padmé Skywalker  
**Rating:** R, just in case  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Just mucking around for my own entertainment.  
**Warnings:** Weird rearrangements of canon pairings. Femmeslash. Angst. Pointless rambling. No veritable spoilers for either fandom, except if someone here actually doesn't know the vague basics of what's going to happen in Star Wars..  
**Notes:** This crossover was written for the Pairings That Ate Fandom fic challenge.

Timeframe for Neverwhere is some months after the events of the book. For Star Wars, the thus-far uncharted territory after Episode II. So this fic may become blatantly AU after Episode III is released. :P

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**Queens Of Nothing**Lady Door Portico was running away.  
  
She didn't want to call it that, but that's what she was doing. She couldn't stay here anymore, in what had used to be home. It was home only to pain now.  
  
Her sister hadn't wanted to come back there at all, so she was staying with lady Serpentine. It was probably the safest place to be in all of London Below, if you were there with permission. Serpentine of the Seven Sisters was a fierce enemy, but a gracious hostess. And she had taken quite a liking to little Ingress Portico.  
  
Door wished she wouldn't have had to return either, that she could have just.. gone away. Forgotten. But she had been so determined to continue his father's project for uniting London Below.  
  
So determined. Before it had all begun to fall apart.  
  
In the first shockingly quiet days after the Things That Happened, she had thought she couldn't live without Richard in London Below. And she had been right, in a way. She still needed him there, and knew the twisting ache would never really go away.  
  
Ironically, things had really started going wrong only after Richard had come back.  
  
She should have known the Marquis had his eye on the boy. No wonder he had seemed so enthusiastic to bring Richard back Below. He probably would have done it anyway, for her, as she had asked. But not this way. He had brought Richard to her, but by a long route. A very long one.  
  
The Marquis always got what he wanted.  
  
They never told her much of what had happened between them, but needless to say, she had been forced to bear the pain of being near Richard, and yet deprived of him in all the ways that would have mattered most.  
  
After her initial fury and panic, she had sunken into some kind of fatalistic gloom. She couldn't really blame anyone. Oh, she could scream at de Carabas all she wanted, and she did, for a while, but that had never achieved anything. And the Marquis had died for her once already, and had been willing to die a second time. He did not remind her of it, as he seemed unable to even think about it himself, but it was always there between them, a silent accusation and a demand to be allowed to take something in return.  
  
Even if what he had taken had been priceless to her.  
  
And then there had been Richard with his hurt puppy eyes.. when confronting that look of confusion and messed-up pain she couldn't bring herself to say anything at all.  
  
Now that there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do, she felt paralyzed and imprisoned in her deserted family home. She had set the gears in motion, in those frantic first months when the whole underside had been confused and had easily accepted the new Lady Portico as their leader. Each in their own way.  
  
But they didn't truly need her, not anymore. Serpentine and the Marquis had helped her plan it all, and they could easily hold the reins without her. She had been a figurehead, and figureheads didn't last long in London Below. No, she didn't matter anymore, not after the initial excitement. Survival and the endless daily squabbles between innumerable small tribes soon took first place in people's minds.  
  
So she did what she felt she had to do. For herself. Not for the world, not for London Below. She had been walking from room to room in her mazelike mansion home, where each door led to closed places all around the city. It was like a puzzle that only she could solve. Only she, anymore, and young Ingress, if she chose to return to this house of haunted memories one day.  
  
Door sealed the last entrance slowly, almost with regret. Almost. She stepped out into a dark alleyway, adjusting the oversize jacket on her shoulders. Glancing warily around her, she decided the location was safe and relaxed with a sigh. She walked to the nearest blank concrete wall and leaned close.  
  
She touched the bricks gently, almost caressingly, and opened a door. Somewhere far, anywhere.  
  
She closed her eyes. And then she was gone.Door woke up lying on her face in something soft and cool. Her fingers curled around it. Grass. _A lawn?_ The wind rustling in trees around her, the gentle scent of exotic flowers.. _A garden?_  
  
Her head was swimming. When she had stepped through, she had been too late to notice that something was wrong. The way the doorway had pulled.. she had opened it too far away, she was sure. After using the Key, her powers had grown, she had known that, but she'd never thought.. Oh god. everything had felt so strange, in the portal. Where was she?  
  
She forced herself to calm down. Breathe. The environment hadn't offered any sign of imminent threat. In fact, the velvet-soft grass felt good against her cheek, and she had a strong desire just to close her eyes and drift back to sleep.  
  
But she couldn't just do that, of course. Growing up in London Below with the outcasts – although with the _sophisticated elite_ of outcasts – had taught her to always watch her back. No matter how safe this place felt, wherever it was, she had also learned not to trust first impressions, regardless of their outer beauty. Never again.  
  
Slowly she pushed herself up from the lawn, oh sweet gravity how it pulled. Her head felt strange, as if she was falling at a great speed, caught up in the doorway still.  
  
The garden looked just as wonderful as it sounded and smelled. Wonderful.. and alien. Large flightless birds with impossible plumage paced the lawn very near the spot where Door had landed, apparently undisturbed by her presence. The trees were bigger than any she had ever seen, with long sleek branches and a variety of foliage even more imaginatively coloured than the birds.  
  
Where on Earth had she come to? This didn't look like any place she had ever seen or heard of, or read about in her father's books. Maybe she should have settled for Prague or Rome.. but she had wanted to go much farther, somewhere irretraceable, where nobody could find her. And she had got just that. She didn't think she could open a door back to London, not from all this distance and uncharted territory.  
  
Suddenly it was more like being stranded than going away on one's own volition.  
  
"How did you get here?"  
  
Door spun around, heart beating. Careless! But the voice that had addressed her didn't belong to a vicious bandit or a monstrous guardian, but to a slender, dark-haired woman sitting on a bench at the edge of the lawn. She was looking at Door quizzically. She didn't seem angry, or even alarmed. Just.. curious.  
  
"I.. "  
  
"You must have come by some unusual route – this garden is well-guarded at all hours and never open for just anyone to walk in. Not that I like it, but that's how it is nowadays."  
  
Door couldn't think of a thing to say. She didn't know this place and its rules, she didn't know if this woman was familiar with abilities like hers. She would think Door a madwoman, if she just..  
  
"Well? How did you do it? By skydiving? Or perhaps by magic?"  
  
Something in Door gave in then. She was tired. "Actually, yes."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I.. can open doors. Well, it is a kind of magic. And I can make doors where there aren't any. Look, it's true, I don't even know where I am. I just made myself a door to go through and.. I didn't think."  
  
"Could it be.. some unknown form of the Force.. but you're so young. Are you a Jedi apprentice?"  
  
"A what?"  
  
The woman burrowed her brow. "You really must have come from a long way away, if you're not familiar with the order of Jedi knights. I could suppose you a spy, of course, in which case you wouldn't have any scruples with lying to me. But you don't look like a spy, or an assassin. Our enemies like flaunting themselves. This isn't something they would do."  
  
"I'm not a spy! Like I said, I don't even know where I am!"  
  
"Relax, please. I've already made up my mind. I'm sure you don't mean any harm."  
  
Door sagged with relief. She had been poised to sprint away at any sign of danger, but the woman's voice was soothing. The whole surroundings emanated a kind of fragile peace. Suddenly Door was glad she had come to this place, even if she couldn't stay.  
  
The woman was looking at her searchingly, and then she nodded, apparently convinced that Door wasn't going to make a run for it, or change into an assassin armed to her teeth.  
  
"This is my homeworld, Naboo. You mightn't have heard of us, we're rather insignificant and on the edge of the known galaxy.. but then, we've been rather central in some of the recent events.."  
  
There was a pause as Door thought this through. "..God. I'm on another planet?"  
  
"It would appear so, if you're not from around here. Is there something wrong?"  
  
"I.. but.. the known galaxy? There are other places like this? Why doesn't anyone on Earth know about this?"  
  
"Earth.. that doesn't sound familiar at all. And.. I rather think there are no completely secluded worlds in this galaxy anymore, not ones with an advanced civilization, anyway."  
  
"Then.. I'm in another _galaxy_?!" Door was shivering – she knew she could never really come to understand how far she was from home, but she felt the shock of it creeping up on her all the same.  
  
"Could be. I've never heard of it happening – the intergalactic distances are very long, too long to cross. But then, I don't know how your ability works, this door-making. We just can't tell how far you've traveled, at least not now, so let's try to think of something else, okay? You mustn't panic here, the guards might mistake you for a violent intruder."  
  
The woman's voice was still soft and soothing, but it had taken on the firm edge of someone used to keeping things in control, and commanding people. Door thought she would have wanted to comply, even if the woman hadn't been making as much sense as she was. So Door closed her eyes and tried to make her breathing calmer once more. "Alright. Tell me.. tell me who you are. I mean, if that's okay with you."  
  
"My name is Padmé ..Naberrie." There was a slight hesitant pause, and Door wondered if the woman was telling her real name. And if not, why did she think she needed to conceal it? Door glanced down at her small, slender hands that were fiddling nervously with the sleeve of her worn-out leather jacket. _No, Richard's jacket._  
  
She looked up to see the woman smiling. So beautiful. And .. not only sad, but hurting. Door could see that even through the smile. It was the same kind of aching she had seen in her own eyes in the mirror, in the long last months in London Below.  
  
"I see that you see through me." The woman shifted on the bench, her smile deepening, but with it deepened that rueful, pained look in her eyes. Suddenly she looked much younger than Door had first thought her to be. "You are a stranger, truly. I can see that too. ..and I'm tired, of keeping so many secrets. Maybe there's no reason to lie to you. Come, sit with me."  
  
She gestured to the empty space beside her, and Door took a seat nervously but without hesitation. The stone bench was pleasantly warmed by the sun.  
  
"The name I've been calling myself in my mind only, my real name, is Padmé Skywalker. I am Padmé Naberrie by my family's name, but Skywalker by marriage. By secret marriage, secret even now that I am with child."  
  
Door looked at Padmé. There was no outward sign of her pregnancy yet. How long could she keep this secret? And why? So many things Door didn't know. But she wanted to know, she realized. She wanted to belong here.  
  
Padmé had noticed her confusion, although she could hardly guess the full extent of it. Anything she would say now to help clear that confusion would most likely only add to it. But Padmé seemed so eager and relieved to finally pour out her secrets, that Door didn't have the heart to stop her.  
  
"No one knows yet, but they will soon. I must give some reason for my retreat from the senate. I once was Queen of my people, and then a senator – I still am, if only in theory. And although the whole government is crumbling apart now, there is still a chance to regain our foothold in the battle, and I should hold on to my duty. And for a long time I did. At great peril, sometimes. But now.. too many lives are at stake, not just mine."  
  
Padmé sighed and scuffed at the gravel path with her sandalled feet.  
  
"I've taken refuge here. It makes me feel so useless! But I can no longer stay at the centre of things, I can't fight like I used to. I can not, _will not_ endanger my children."  
  
"Children?"  
  
"Yes. I am carrying twins. A girl, and a boy. It hasn't been verified by any doctor yet, but I know it. I just know. It's as if they speak to me.. they must be strong in the Force."  
  
Door felt lost. She didn't even know what this "force" was, but Padmé had compared Door's ability to it, so it must have been something similar. And it wouldn't have been unheard of back in London Below, for a mother and her unborn child to communicate. Everyone knew that bond was strong, in flesh and in spirit. Still.. these twins. She had a feeling that they were going to be very special. Very important, and that their mother, as gentle as she seemed, would do anything to protect them. Anything.  
  
Padmé was absent-mindedly running her fingers over her still quite lean stomach, but as one of the colourful birds pacing near the bench let out a high-pitched shriek, she seemed to snap out of her reverie.  
  
"I'm sorry. I've been talking about my worries, and I still don't even know your name."  
  
Door was surprised for a moment. Somehow she felt as if she had always known this woman, as if Padmé should already had known her name.  
  
"I am Door. Door Portico."  
  
"Ah. How appropriate. A family tradition?"  
  
"Yes.. you could say that."  
  
It didn't take long before they talked about Door's family, and about many other things, hungry to know everything about each other. Padmé took Door in to stay with her – Door was homeless now, after all, a stray in an alien universe with no way of going back. And somehow they knew that the world had very little time set aside for them. This peace couldn't last, and the future was very uncertain. But to have even this short time in seclusion, and each other's unexpected company, seemed like a great gift.  
  
They walked in the gardens and spent long lazy evenings in a secluded marble parlor by a lake. Door told Padmé about Earth, of London, of her family and their fate. She told about the people she knew, of Richard, of the Marquis, and eventually of what had driven her away. And in return she learned of the war that was tearing this galaxy apart, of the order of Jedi knights standing against the destruction. She learned of the Force. She learned of Padmé, and of Anakin.  
  
Months went by without any change. There was little news of the war, although the city seemed to be on edge. The few scraps of information that reached Naboo didn't really tell what was going on, where the battle fronts had moved, who was actually winning. Even fewer were messages from the Jedi counsil to their allies. That did not bode well.  
  
And from Anakin Skywalker, there was no word at all.  
  
Door could easily see the hurt and worry that was consuming Padmé, no matter how brave a facade she was trying to put up, for her people and for herself. Nobody knew what had become of Anakin Skywalker, and Padmé could hardly make any enquiries without information about their secret marriage getting into the wrong hands.  
  
What saved Padmé was that she was no longer alone. Door was there for her, every day, listening, comforting. And she knew this pain so well. She wondered which was worse, to be separated from a loved one by a few kilometres of underground tunnel, or by unmeasurable galactic distances. She couldn't say. Yet there was more hope for Padmé and Anakin to be reunited than there had ever been for her and Richard. And with this knowledge there came a pang of regret, although Door wasn't sure what for. But in her heart she knew that much of her anxiety came from the thought that were Padmé and Anakin together again, she would be cast aside. And she couldn't bear that.  
  
She had already lost her family, and then she had lost Richard. She didn't want to lose gentle, smiling Padmé. She wanted Padmé all for herself, as she had been in these few short weeks they had spent together on Naboo.  
  
Soon they got to talking about the world around them, the galaxy that was all new and wondrous to Door. It helped both of them to forget their own pain, so learning about the galaxy and planning possible trips to other worlds became a very welcome distraction.  
  
Padmé couldn't take Door on a space trip – flying even on the edges of the galactic war zone was a risky business. So they studied star charts and directions and distances, until Door felt confident enough to open a gateway to a small tropical moon in a neighbouring solar system.  
  
As the familiar power coursed through her again, at long last, she began to understand that she could have gone home any time she wanted. From the very beginning she had been deceiving herself, telling herself the way back was closed. The truth was simply that she had not wanted to go. But she hadn't dared tell herself that.  
  
This realization was almost too much for Door. The galactic distances had been disorienting, and had helped her forget, but now she was struck by a painful yearning for home, a home she was not sure existed. She had run away from an empty house, and yet she wanted to go back. Wanted and didn't want.  
  
As she had comforted Padmé, so Padmé was there for her. They clung to each other with a growing desperation.  
  
The first time they made love was there, alone on a distant moon, under strange tropical trees. The steam from the afternoon's rain condensed on their skins until they felt like they were swimming, in a sea of tangling limbs, breathing from mouth to mouth.  
  
The door to refuge had been a door to healing, although they didn't know for how long. There and then it didn't matter.  
  
Neither of them was alone in the universe. Not anymore. And for a short while the universe let them be. 

Fin


End file.
